Slow or Fast?

I've been pondering the new season upon us--early winter. As it relates to food that means more meat, beans, stews, and soups. With the cold outside, I'm loading up on warming foods and trying to stay inside wrapped up in a blanket on the couch as much as possible. It's the innate sense that it's time to hibernate for a bit. I have a very real longing for the natural need to shut down for a few months and get quiet.

I went to see Up in the Air last night, and a quote that keeps swirling in my head from the movie is, "The slower we move, the faster we die." Yikes! If this is true, I don't have many days left. Even before this season of cold descended, I was living slower on purpose. Now that winter is here, I'm trying to slow down even more. In my heart, I know it's the right thing to do. But it's difficult to live among the whirlwind of activity our culture has created to avoid slowing down.

The holidays have been particularly difficult for me this year. I think this disconnect may be one reason. At church I'm getting the message of  "Jesus is the reason for the season" and prepare your heart to welcome the baby by attending this long list of activities. The marketing experts are working overtime to convince me that their product is just what my loved one wants this year. Where do I start with the food piece? Both my family and my husband's have their traditions, and we had an addition this year with my sister, so the food was decadent and plentiful. But was I satisfied by any of this fanfare? Not so much.

Don't get me wrong, we had a fabulous Christmas day with my sister's family, my parents, and my in-laws and laughed at my 2 year old chewing 29 pieces of gum in under 3 hours and celebrated the installation of a brand new toilet to replace the 35 year old one. Great day, but the atmosphere of frenzy ramped up by a total sugar overdose left me feeling a little empty. I don't know that I ever really welcomed the Christ child. Come to think of it, I don't know if we even uttered Jesus' name on Christmas day. Actually, we did, at the end of the day when my mother asked where the baby Jesus was, since he wasn't in the manger of our nativity. Wow. Not exactly the tradition I want to establish for my son.

So here I am with too many leftovers and a sinking feeling that I have ignored God this Christmas. That's why I've got to slow down and embrace this season of hibernation. I need to simmer on myself while the beans are simmering on the stove and get connected again.

forced fast

Without my consent, I was recently forced into a week of fasting, both physically and technologically.

I'll spare the details of the food fast, other than to say, I didn't want or need any food for about 36 hours. I have to admit that having a break from the everyday task of food planning, prep and clean up was a welcome visitor at my house.

The technological fast occurred when my computer spit out a blue screen and text I didn't know how to decipher the same night my food fast was winding down. I was forced to seek expert advice, so I was without computer access for 3 full days.

Not surprisingly, I really loved having to give up both for a short time. It helped me focus on other things and people and become really mindful of how much time I spend thinking about food and using the computer--both of which are pretty self-focused. This fast, although forced, was a nice awakening for me. Looks like 2010 needs to include some intentional fasting.

Practice, Practice, Practice

My day was really disrupted. Wednesday is usually my "Academy Day" where I spend a good portion of it in silence and study and meditation and now in blog world. I was hijacked by a terrible storm last night that caused school to be canceled for today. Four extra people in the house, ranging in ages from 2 to 38, does not make for a routine Wednesday.

I did get to go for a run this morning, and by run I mean 6 minutes. I was up to 16 minutes, but have not been very regular getting at least 2 runs in each week. Yep, I've tanked on my running practice. So I started thinking of how other practices are going for me right now. Surprisingly, I have done well with my food for this time of year. With Thanksgiving, my birthday, and holiday events falling in line one right after the other, I usually give in and eat mostly junk amidst the commotion.

But something is different these days. A stirring within is calling me to be more conscious of my daily routine, especially the food piece. The practice is paying off. I wake up in the morning wanting greens for breakfast. Weird, I know, but put some fresh steamed kale on brown rice porridge with olive oil and garlic gomasio, and it sets me up for an awesome day.

That's why today was a total bummer. I didn't get to do my intentional spiritual practice that Wednesdays are set aside for, and I really needed it. While I'm feeling pretty balanced in my body with my food, I'm feeling relatively scattered in my spirituality. Today helped me realize that sometimes things show up unexpectedly, so being consistent about my daily spiritual practices is essential. I hear Jane's voice telling me to "wake up" to the practices I've got going in my life already. Perhaps with a little attention and intention I'll appreciate the disrupted moments and find practice within them.

I wonder what types of practice I'll begin to crave. I hope it's something as weird as greens for breakfast.

Sweet Potatoes

I adore sweet potatoes. My favorite way to prepare them is roasted. It's bare bones and wonderfully savory to me. There's something very soothing about them. That's why I roasted some up for a friend this week. I wanted to share the love with her as she settles into life with a 3 year old and a newborn.

As I was preparing them for roasting, my awareness of sweet potatoes was heightened. Maybe it was due to my last post, but for some reason, I was more aware of  their raw beauty than I have been before. I lingered over washing them and noticed all the bumps and scars unique to each potato. The skin felt really rough in my hands, something I'd never really stopped to notice before. Then I cut them open, and the color shocked me. Yeah, I know, sweet potatoes are orange, but for some reason these were particularly stunning. They were smooth and rich at their core. After chunking them up, I drizzled olive oil, sprinkled a little sea salt and pepper, and roasted them until they were tender to a fork. I had to sample, just to be sure I wasn't taking junk to my friend, and they were divine. So simple, yet so yummy. The oil and minimal seasoning really complimented their flavor and who could see the imperfections I noticed in their raw form.

Naturally, I began simmering on what I can learn from these root veggies, especially since I'm trying to go naked these days. Here are a few thoughts:

1. Scars are necessary for growth. Give thanks for their presence in my life. In the end, they are hardly visible.
   
2. What color am I on the inside? Am I vibrant and alive?
   
3. Keep it simple by being me, which reminds me of a sermon I heard in seminary titled, Do You Know Who You Are? Then Why Don't You Act Like It? Sweet potatoes know who they are. They don't try to act like kale.
4. Find ways to compliment my true nature. It takes very little to bring out the delicious flavor of sweet potatoes.

I feel confident more simmering is in my future. Think I'll whip up another batch of roasted sweet potatoes while I continue to ponder.

Exposed

One of the things about whole foods I love is its nakedness. It's totally raw--nothing to cover it up. I try to prepare food in a way that honors this fact so I get the goodness of its true nature without smothering it in heavy sauces or too many herbs & spices.

I have a hard time exposing myself in the same way. It's why I can't believe I started a blog. I'm one of those "private people" who doesn't reveal too much about myself until I feel extremely comfortable or have a deep connection with someone. I have spent a lifetime hiding my inner most feelings, so when I feel the least bit vulnerable, I shut down--wall goes up and communication ceases. I like to keep myself covered up in a nice cream sauce.

I need to take a lesson from my whole food buddies by honoring my raw self. If I love rawness so much in them, why can't I love it in myself, too? I can! So I'm going to start by letting go of the sauces, creams, herbs, and spices I have piled onto myself to cover the real me up. Yep, it's time to get naked.

Shortcuts

Here's what my husband tells me is going on in the food industry: there's an Eggo shortage. How does he know about it, and I don't?  Teachers. Apparently, this is what they talk about in the lounge--what's missing on the shelves at the grocery store. It's interesting to have access to this stimulating conversation among the women and men molding the minds of our children, but that's another post. Anyway, the Eggo debacle got us talking about what "everyone else" is eating, because a shortage of Eggo's is really not a big deal at our house.* My husband decided that most people are saving a great deal of time each week by choosing a different food acquisition path. He estimates that I could save an average of 3-4 hours each week, if I changed my routine to model that of his colleagues from school. To do that I'd need to start shopping more in the freezer section, learn how the microwave works, and give up my "NO McDonald's" stance. It's not going to happen. Sure it may take me a little longer to plan, prepare, and clean up a good ole' home cooked meal, but I've already talked about the importance of that in my life here.

So, of course, as a good Academy student, I began to think about the shortcuts I have taken in my connection with the Divine. It feels like I've spent most of my life looking for some sort of back door approach to God. If I serve on one more committee at church or attend this particular retreat or devote my career to the church or even go to seminary, then I will have a direct connect with God. I've been working pretty hard on all this stuff most of my life, and there have been some holy moments, but for the most part I'm left feeling like that shortcut food--a little fractionated. It's mostly just a list of things to do, rather than a way of being.

I'm beginning to see that what my heart truly desires is a connection with something greater than the sum of all my previous experiences. I'm seeking a way of life that's slow, intentional, and connected. I want to see the image of God in everyone I encounter and carry the Echad b'echad (One into One, One becomes One) with me always. Mostly, I want my life to be full of spiritual practices that generate more compassion in me and therefore the world. There's no shortcut to get there. So to avoid being de-railed by the continued shortage of Eggo's, I'm taking the long way around.

*we make homemade buckwheat pancakes to die for!

D-I-S-C-O-N-N-E-C-T

It's Thanksgiving. The value of "home cooked" food goes way up on this holiday. It's one of the few times of year when the general population actually spends a significant amount of time in the kitchen preparing the food they plan to eat. Of course the food industry has come up with plenty of "short cuts" to keep a good distance between us and our food, but I enjoy living in the fantasy that kitchens are being used like never before during this holiday. People are getting up close and personal with their food. It's a great thing!

Unfortunately, I don't think this is the norm for everyday life.We find ourselves in a place today where food is of little or no value. It's just a commodity. We are so disconnected from our food that we see it as a cumbersome chore to grow, buy, prepare, or even eat, so we let someone else do most of the work for us. When I got married, I didn't know what to do with the pots and pans I received for wedding gifts. My life was full of eating out and taking out and grabbing food wherever I could get it. So for Lent one year, I decided to give up eating out. I thought it would be the longest 40 days of my life. Fortunately for me, it totally improved my life. It's when I began to get connected to my food.

Fast forward to Thanksgiving 2008. I was in Athol, MA with my sister and her family where almost every item on our plate was secured within 50 miles of her home. Better yet, my sister had grown a lot of what we were eating. We got milk from a cow, cut greens out of the field, harvested sweet potatoes, and met the farmer who raised our turkey. I don't think I have ever been so intimately connected to my food--knowing who grew it, seeing where it grew, touching the soil that birthed it. It was a spiritual experience. I felt really connected to the rest of the universe. My eyes were opened to how everything is intertwined.

One of the images I like to use with my clients is that of an internal rain forest. When we take away one component of food, it messes up the ecosystem of our bodies much like the rain forest is altered forever when one tiny bug is removed. I'm beginning to see this same rain forest example play itself out in my spiritual journey. The more disconnected I am from my food, the more disconnected I am from God. Thank goodness the reverse is also true. This new insight is what I'm most thankful for this year.

Can't pontificate anymore--got to get connected to my food and God by putting my hands on some beets grown by my friends Candice and Joel at Crabtree Farms. Happy connected Thanksgiving!

You Are What You Eat

I believe that food enters our bodies and breaks down to become our physical being (cells, blood, tissue, organs, etc.). I also believe food affects our thoughts, feelings, and emotions. I counsel people to eat whole food (food as close to the way it was created in nature) and believe that whole food creates whole people.

If we are the image of God, which I believe now more than ever after the exercise of having the Hebrew text YHVH imprinted on me during session 2 of Academy, where does the food piece fit in? Is God food? Rabbi Rami would say yes, because "God is everything," but I struggle with non-whole food. Is that still God? If it is, and we eat it, are we just a different, less-than-whole manifestation of God? "Of course!" would be Rami's response.

I get that. I don't like it, but I get it. For me, I know that when I eat whole food I feel like a whole person. I am centered and in my body. The mindless chit chat is less loud, and I easily open myself to Echad b'echad (One into One; One becomes One), heightening my link to God. I find myself in a place of divine connection without really thinking about it or even trying to get there. That's why eating whole food is critical for me. Without it, I cannot connect with the divine.

Ok, maybe that's not 100% true--I can connect with the divine when I eat non-whole food, but the connection is significantly reduced. I'm fractionated, just like the food. It's difficult to focus and clear my egoic self of the endless noise. It's exhausting, because I have to work ten times as hard. It's work, rather than a state of being.

So here's my surprise conclusion--keep eating whole food, especially when I'm feeling disconnected from God. I know, quite a shocker.