In the same vein as Chiapas Farms, Pura Vida specializes in superior fair trade coffees finely crafted from 100% Arabica beans handpicked in the mountains of one of the world’s premier coffee growing regions and then slow roasted in small patches.

Pura Vida has a variety of blends from light ones (Breakfast Blend for example), to Medium ones like their House Blend and Ethiopian Blend, and Dark ones like their French Roast and Espresso Milano. No matter which you pick however each Pura Vida product you buy helps the company succeed in their mission to “create good.” Pura Vida provides over 1,400 hot, nutritious meals each week to hungry children in  San Jose, Costa Rica in the hopes of keeping them off the streets. They also provide education opportunities to children in Guatemala and Costa Rica through computer centers, scholarships, after school programs, and transportation to schools.

To learn more about their blends and their mission click here.

During an especially turbulent time in my past, while I was working 80-hour weeks and letting my life pass me by …

…a friend of mine sent me an email with these two words: Positive Pause.

I clicked on the link, and continue to do so, whenever I need, well as positive pause during my day.

The first time I visited, I did not have the sound turned up on my computer. It took weeks and weeks before I realized I could hear music, too. But at the time, that silence was oh-so-golden to me.

At the end you can link to other  positive moments, if you need them.

Thanks, Barb.

Photo Credit: Marty Muniz

Touch Me Festival 2008 in Croatia

I’ve always been fascinated by sensory deprivation tanks. Ever since my days of reading material written by Carlos Castineda, finding peyote growing along a main downtown street in Albany, New York and hanging out with a guy who thought he could visit the libraries of Venus anytime he pleased (yes, the planet).

But that’s another story.

Do you remember the movie starring actor William Hurt called,  Altered States? That is an oldie-but-goodie. Years ago while living in New York City, I remember hearing about a place in Hell’s Kitchen where you could book time in a sensory deprivation tank.

Wonder if it’s still there.

 Blue Light Flotation in Chelsea is reportedly the longest operating flotation service in the city.

These days, they call them rest chambers, flotation or isolation tanks, where one goes to experience “floating.” It is reported that my beloved Dallas Cowboys even had one in their locker room.

Wonder if they moved it to the new stadium.

The point of floating is to create a pure state of relaxation by screening out all other stimuli. Although Hollywood likes to make us believe even more can happen in there.

Ever watch Fringe on FOX?

Photo Credit: tomislavmedak

My first trip beyond the Mississippi was a visit  to Canyonlands National Park in Moab, Utah. I camped there with my boyfriend for two weeks .

I was taken by all things west: the vistas, the sense of distance, the deep blue sky, the dry air that cooled in the shade, even though it was 100 degrees … and the smell of sagebrush.

The sun beats down on the smoky green-gray plants, causing their fragrance to fill the air. It enchanted, intoxicated me. For years after that trip, I  was transported immediately to the mesas and hoodoos of Canyonlands by even a tiny whiff of sage. Even now, the smell of sage lifts me, calms me, takes me back to that first time.

Which was in the early 80’s.

Researchers say that of all the senses, the sense of smell works most effectively on human emotions. Scent plays a big part in memory, too.

Right now, the Russian olive trees are in bloom in Idaho. When I moved here, I planted one in our yard at the suggestion of my friend, Tom. Years ago, he lived in Colorado and recalls how heavenly the smell of Russian olive trees can be.

It is. Heavenly.

But the nicest part of the smell of Russian olive trees? I think fondly of Tom. Miss you, my friend.

Photo Credit: Tony Crider

In the morning, I can hear the violin.

The weather is nice now, and all the house windows are open. So, I can hear someone playing the violin. The music is coming from across the golf course in my back yard.

It lasts for a little while, maybe 20 minutes tops. Drifting up and down the sixteenth fairway, serenading.

I could ignore it. I could allow myself not to hear any of nature’s sounds: the bird song, the odd squawk of the pheasants that live in the ravine by the side of the road, the car traffic … the plunk that a golf club makes when it hits a ball, the soft talking of the golfers … and the violin.

But the music compels me, lets me remember what all the great spiritual teachers tell us: live in the moment. So I pause, and listen, and feel grateful.

Years ago, during a cooking class in Italy, the full moon rose over the olive trees and grape vines of the villa where we were learning to make arista al chianti – pork loin with wine sauce. In the middle of our preparations, we walked right outside to greet her, taking the moment to savor la bella luna. It was then that I realized what cooking dinner in Tuscany was all about.

What living in the moment was all about. And it feels wonderful.

Right now, a soft rain is falling, tapping our gravel patio outside the window. I allow  myself to hear it – and enjoy it – for the moment.

Photo Credit: eflon