Strange times seem to come out of nowhere. There have been many strange and unsettling events for me lately, and I have been placed in a position that does not allow me to deal with them in the way that I find the most healing. I am left with a sense of expectancy but little hope of completion. It leaves my sleep troubled and unsatisfying. There is a leash on me that keeps lengthening as I move forward but lets me know that I am still firmly attached to a past I am barred from confronting.
To keep keep moving like this makes very little sense, but to stay tied to this place is unacceptable. With no hope for relief from the situation there is nothing to do but take comfort in what is in front of me- my children (whom may drive me to distraction but are the best company possible), my friends (I have so many who are truly amazing and wonderful people), my home (which may not be exactly where I want to live but has been a Godsend for all of the years we have lived here)... and food.
In a country that exists on synthetic "food" I find great pleasure and comfort in the basic joy of real food. Looking at it exposes me to colour and texture and shape. Smelling it brings me memories of meals past, made by people who care for me. Cutting and prepping it forces me to slow down to appreciate what is before me. Cooking it transforms it from beautiful ingredients (usually straight from the ground) into beautiful meals, some with roots in my childhood and some ways of experiencing other worlds that I can not touch directly. Eating it gives me energy to live, energy straight from the Earth.
Today, I chose to just sit at the table with my lunch and eat it while watching the off season storm blow everything around outside my window. Instead of pondering predicaments, I savored the nourishment in front of me. My bowl of ratatouille and eggs was also a bowl of my great, good fortune. Maybe the strength it took to grow it all becomes the strength I need to move along despite my bindings.